


Waves

by IWillNotGoGentlyIntoThatGoodNight (Menochange)



Series: One shots [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Brotherly Bonding, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Referenced Dick Grayson's faked death, Tim Drake-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 13:29:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15510915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Menochange/pseuds/IWillNotGoGentlyIntoThatGoodNight
Summary: Dick Grayson is dead.Sitting in the dark Tim mourns for the world, for the people who don't even realize what they have lost, for those who do, he mourns for the heartache his family and family have to go through, then he mourns for Damian; who has only just arisen from his own death and now has to face the death of their brother.And finally Tim mourns for his own loss, for his brother, for his hero.He mourns because their light in this dark world is now gone and there will never be another.





	Waves

**Author's Note:**

> So I have no Idea where this came from... One moment I was listening to the song ( on repeat) and the next thing I know it's 2am (I have class in like 6 hrs) and I have a story. :)
> 
> The song is Waves by Dean Lewis and I totally recommend listening to it (I'm quiet honestly hooked)

_Memories, of a stolen place_  
_Caught in the silence_  
_An echo lost in space_  
_It comes and goes in waves_  
_It always does, it always does_  
_We watch as our young hearts fade_  
_Into the flood, into the flood_

 

Tim felt the tears roll down his face as he sat curled up on the cold bathroom floor, the cool edge of the bathtub soothed the pounding in his head as he rested against it.

Today had been a good day, his meetings went well and patrol was uneventful, everything had been so blissfully normal – there was honestly nothing about his day that could have triggered this numb emptiness inside him, which was why he was so unprepared when it happened.

So here he was curled up into himself, what must logically be hours later,  wishing everything would just stop as he cried his eyes out. All of a sudden it had just hit him out of nowhere, his life seemed meaningless, given all that’s happened, given what he had lost. It made no sense that he of all people deserved to still be alive, especially when there were those more deserving who would never take another breath.

The worst part was that Tim wasn’t even sure he wanted to be alive, sometimes in moments like these he imagines doing it, the blissful silence that would await him as everything ends. And then the guilt sets in as he realised how selfish, how worthless he is because of all the people who have had their lives ruthlessly taken from them – How dare Tim even think about ending his life when **_he’s_** dead, when Tim did nothing to stop it.

So he sits here in the dark forcing himself to remember the people he lost, he forces himself to remember his parents, to remember his friends.  And finally he forces himself to do the thing he had been avoiding since the funeral, he forces himself to think about, to remember Dick Grayson.

He couldn’t stop death from taking those he loved, he couldn’t bring anyone back nor could he trade his own life in their place (but if he could he would in a heartbeat). So the least he could do is remember them, remember every moment be it good or bad, he won’t let them be forgotten.

He won’t let **Dick** **Grayson** be forgotten.  

Given all the people he has lost, how many funerals and wakes he had the misfortune of attending, this should be easier. But now even months after he watched as his brother’s body was lowered into the ground, it really wasn’t. He had been doing so well too, putting himself back together after everything was said and done, but now – with Damian’s return – all that darkness and despair he tried so hard to avoid, just kept coming back.

The look that flashed across the younger boy’s face when they finally told him the truth made Tim's heart hurt, he ached – in that moment connecting with the younger boy in a way he had always figured was impossible given their history – as Damian shuttered out all emotion, face carefully blank as he just nodded acting as though someone was telling him about the weather rather than breaking the new of his beloved brother’s death. It would have been convincing too, if Robin had been wearing a domino mask Tim would have questioned all he thought he had known about ~~Batman~~  Nightwing and Robin; their relationship, their connection. But whilst Damian may have been able to control his breathing, slow down his heart rate and school his face into a blank mask – giving off the outward appearance of nonchalance – his eyes told a different story; the story of a boy whose whole world had just collapsed, broken irreparably. A boy who had lost the only thing that meant anything to him, the person who he had loved and been loved by unconditionally. A young boy who was just so lost.  Alone. In that moment Tim realised that he could relate, that this was just another thing – however horrible – he and Damian shared.

Tim was abruptly broken out of his thoughts as the door opened and the bathroom was flooded with the light from the hallway. He looked up from his place on the floor wondering how he was going to explain his current predicament without sounding entirely pathetic and was greeted with the sight of his baby brother (a sentiment he would never dare say out loud for fear of being maimed) staring down at him, his green eyes wide, almost frantic in the harsh light.

“Drake? What… What are you doing?” The boy demanded haughtily, hesitating slightly before taking a singular step into the room, hand still resting upon the door knob.

Tim wanted to say something, what exactly? he had no idea, but despite his best intentions he couldn’t seem to force words out past his lips, couldn’t find the energy to do more than lift his head from where it rested on the tub to lean it back, resting against the tiled wall, eyes never leaving the kid’s direction.

“Drake? Are you hurt?” The boy asked, voice soft and hesitant as he stepped further into the room, the door shutting behind him leaving them both in darkness.

“Don’t” The boy had reached out a hand as though to turn on the light only to be stopped by the quiet voice. It took Tim longer than it should have to realise that it was his voice, it was he who had spoken.

“Pathetic Drake. If you are hurt... Perhaps I should call Pennyworth to deal with you.”  Damian scoffed mockingly although his tone held a barely concealed tinge of concern.

“Don’t, please don’t” he pleaded quietly into the darkness

“I… I don’t … What do you want from me Drake? What do I …” Damian pause losing his tone of superiority and instead sounding uncertain, worried.

“Damian… Just… Just come here” Tim asked voice still soft as he shifted from his original position so he was less curled and more seated, back against the wall.

“Why?” Tim felt his lips twitch slightly upwards at how suspicious the young boy sounded.

 “Damian, Please”

“I don’t …” The boy trailed off, hesitating before he complied silently padding towards Tim until he was standing directly in front of the older boy.

Tim took a breath in and gathered the little energy he had left to pull Damian down, until the boy was seated half on the teenager’s lap, tightly pressed in the small gap between Tim and the tub. Taken off guard the preteen went easily, only struggling as Tim started to wrap his arms around him.

“DRAKE! What is the meaning of this! Unhand me at once! I swear if you do not you will regret your very existence…” The youngest Wayne demanded even as Tim pulled his arms tighter around the boy.

“I’m sorry. Damian. I’m so fucking sorry about Dick” Tim’s breathe shuddered as Damian just stilled.

“Let go. Drake let go of me.” The younger boy finally demanded after a moment of tense silence.

“Damian. I’m sorry I couldn’t save him. I’m sorry you had to go through this. I’m sorry…” Tim held onto the boy tighter as the words spilling out unbidden frantic – as though he feared his ability to speak would soon disappear.   

“ **Shut up. Just Shut up Drake!** ” Damian was practically yelling at this point and a voice in the back of his mind wondered idly how no one else in the manor had been awoken by all the noise.

“Damian. I’m sorry you lost him… I wish… If I could, I would do anything to …”

“Don’t, just…”

“… Bring him back. Even if it meant…” Tim continued ignoring the boy’s words, he needed to explain – needed the younger boy to understand that if there was any way to bring Dick back he would. He would do anything so Damian didn’t have feel as lost, as alone Tim did. Anything.

“Don’t, _please_ don’t” Damian interrupted echoing Tim’s own words from earlier voice broken as he pleaded into the darkness.

Tim stopped speaking abruptly, loosening his grip as Damian stopped struggling, allowing Tim to feel the young boy’s hot tears against his neck as the boy moved to wrap his arms around him, pressing his face into Tim’s skin.

“You lost him too” Damian whispered as he pulled them closer together - here in the arms of someone he had once considered an enemy, they finally acknowledged this dark emptiness that now lived inside the both of them; how they tried to hide it and how it always seemed to come back with vigour, to consume them when the least expected it.

The world - their world - forever changed, a little darker  each day without Richard Grayson there to compete with the sun. Without him there to brighten up the darkest of places, without him around to bring warmth to a cold, cruel world.

The sat like that in the darkness, silent as tears fell down their faces finally letting go, mourning unreserved and openly for the brother they lost – for the man who changed their lives and connected, grounding them, the man who pulled them all together if not physically, then emotionally in a way Batman never could. The man whose very being was so bright he drew them all in one by one and turned them from a group of people who worked together in their shared pursuit of justice and made them into a true family.  

They grieved for themselves, for each other, for their family, for all the people who had known him and all the people who never got the chance. They grieved for the world because there would never again be anyone who shined quiet as bright, been as pure and amazing as Dick Grayson.

In a few hours when the sun starts to rise, they would have to get up and face a new day, putting on their masks - once again hiding for the world - as they pretended this moment of weakness never happened. Pushing forward for want of the day where their hearts ached a little less, where the world felt just a little less empty, a little less dark.

 

 _The freedom, of falling_  
_A feeling I thought was set in stone_  
_It slips through, my fingers_  
_I'm trying hard to let go_  
_It comes and goes in waves_  
_It comes and goes in waves_  
_And carries us away_

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it.  
> Let me know what you think :)


End file.
